GIFT  OF 
Hearst  Fountain 


u 


YOURS 


BY 


ALICE  G.  HOWARD, 


7     51X1^)1  tr     5)\\^)i  9 


YOURS 


BY 


ALICE  Q.   HOWARD. 


Such  as  I  have,  give  I  unto  thee. 


BERKELEY 

PRESS    OF    H.    S.    HOWARD 
I9OO 


Copyright  1900 
BY  ALICE  G.  HOWARD 


LOVINGLY   DEDICATED   TO 

YOU 


473708 


BLOOMING  IN  THE  SHADE. 


I  thank  you  for  the  thought  you  brought  to  me, 

'Twas  like  a  gentle  zephyr  from  the  sea, 

The  breeze  that  softly  fans  the  weary  brow; 

I  seem  to  feel  its  dainty  fingers  now. 

'  T  was  like  the  dew-drop  in  a  lily-cup, 

I  took  the  thought  and  sipped  its  comfort  up. 

With  modest  look,  and  half  averted  head, 

"  They  bloom  the  thickest  in  the  shade,"  you  said. 

You  brought  the  message  on  a  Sabbath  day, 
A  precious  bud,  while  passing  on  your  way. 
You  found  me,  also,  "  blooming  in  the  shade," 
Within  the  shadow  His  dear  hand  had  made. 
'  Tis  not  enough  to  bloom  in  sunshine's  glow, 
Nor  in  the  gloom  of  darkness  thrive  and  grow, 
God's  plans  are  all  in  loving  wisdom  made, 
E'en  though  we  "  bjoom  the  thickest  in  the  shade. 

Where'er  our  lot  in  life  the  Lord  doth  cast, 
He  there  abides  with  us  unto  the  last. 
His  sunlight  ever  gleams  within  the  heart, 
Causing  the  tender  shoots  to  burst  and  start. 
And  so,  my  friend,  I  gladly  make  my  choice 
To  grow  where  I  can  plainest  hear  His  voice, 
If  it  may  be  through  paths  of  anguish  laid, 
Then  I  will  "bloom  the  thickest  in  the  shade." 


THERE  SHALL  BE  NO  NIGHT  THERE. 


A  Crystal  sea,  embanked  by  mountains  blue, 
Ships  slowly  drifting  into  phantom  caves; 
A  burning  orb  of  glowing  crimsom  hue, 
Dropping  from  sight  beneath  the  foaming  waves; 
A  dusky  curtain  drawn  by  unseen  hand, 
Bright  stars  appearing  with  their  laughing  light; 
A  dreamy  whisper  floating  o'er  the  land, 
And  unto  man  is  born  a  restful  night. 

A  rippling  stream  of  living  waters  deep, 
A  tiny  craft  propelled  by  spirit  breath; 
Tired  eyelids  closing  in  a  peaceful  sleep, 
Upon  the  bosom  of  the  angel  Death; 
A  gauzy  curtain  quickly  drawn  aside, 
The  flashing  glory  of  an  endless  ray; 
A  vision  of  the  pleasures  that  abide, 
And  unto  man  is  born  a  perfect  day. 

Be  brave  and  strong!  This  life  is  but  the  night, 
Our  joys  but  stars  to  light  us  on  our  way; 
Resplendent  brightness  lurks  just  out  of  sight, 
Where  ransomed  souls  abide  in  white  array. 
Death  is  but  day;  'tis  day  to  be  with  God; 
'Tis  day  to  see  His  face  and  hear  His  voice. 
The  body  bides  its  time  beneath  the  sod; 
Day  calls  it  forth  with  spirits  to  rejoice. 


WHERE  DO  THE  DAYS  GO? 


When  your  dear  little  boy  is  tired  of  play, 

And  his  eyes  beginning  to  wink, 
Then  where  goes  the  day  he  thought  came  to  stay? 

Tell  me  Grandma,  what  do  you  think? 

A  land  where  the  streets  are  of  gold,  my  dear, 

Is  built  in  the  beautiful  sky, 
Where  there  's  nothing  to  fear,  not  even  a  tear, 

And  there  we  shall  go  by-and-bye. 

When  my  dear  little  boy  is  tired  of  play, 

And  his  eyes  in  slumber  are  tight, 
The  day  creeps  away,  he  thought  came  to  stay, 

And  goes  to  that  City  of  Light. 

Then  when  we  get  there,  my  own  little  boy, 

Where  sun  is  not  shadowed  by  rain, 
With  naught  to  annoy  the  heart  filled  with  joy, 

We  '11  meet  the  sweet  days  one 2  again. 


EVER  A  SONG  SOMEWHERE. 


There  's  ever  a  song  in  the  darkest  of  clouds, 
Ever  a  rainbow  the  mountain  to  span  ; 

Our  merciful  Lord,  in  the  tenderest  love, 
Bringeth  the  chastisement  needed  by  man. 

There  's  ever  a  song  in  the  stroke  of  the  lash, 
Sharp  though  it  fall  on  the  quivering  frame  ; 

Down  through  the  furrows  flow  streamlets  of  peace, 
The  sweet  with  the  bitter  proclaiming  God's  name. 

There  's  ever  a  song  in  the  heart  of  each  pang, 
Waiting  to  burst  through  the  covering  shell, 

Striving  to  soar,  like  the  birds  all  a- wing, 
Eager  its  message  of  glory  to  tell. 

There  's  ever  a  song  —  then  find  it  who  will  — 
There  's  ever  a  song,  on  earth  as  above. 

The  trials  of  life,  with  their  sharpness  and  pain, 
Are  chords  of  the  heaventy  anthem  of  love. 


BUTTERCUPS. 


*  Do  you  love  butter?  "  smilingly  he  said, 
Holding  a  buttercup  above  her  head, 
While  a  small  hand,  laid  lightly  'neath  her  chin, 
Uplifted  a  face  to  the  rose  akin. 
Under  her  chin,  so  dainty,  fair  and  white, 
He  reflected  the  flower's  yellow  light. 

*'  Do  you  love  butter?     Ah,  indeed  you  do! 

What  the  buttercup  says  is  always  true." 

Hand  in  hand,  through  the  fields  and  meadows  gay, 

They  wandered  joyously  from  day  to  day; 

Glad  that  the  summer  sun  was  made  to  shine, 

Glad  that  their  youthful  lives  could  intertwine. 


"  Do  you  love  butter?  "  smilingly  he  said; 
Lower  and  lower  drooped  her  sunny  head; 
"  The  world  still  holds  one  buttercup,  I  see, 
Look  up,  my  darling,  say  that  you  love  me." 
A  strong,  bronzed  hand  he  laid  beneath  her  chin, 
And  gently  kissed  the  lips  he  longed  to  win. 

Again  he  held  a  flower  o'er  her  head; 

*'  Do  you  love  me?  "  The  words  he  softly  said. 

She  looked  into  his  eyes  of  chestnut  brown, 

And  sweetly  smiled,  although  she  meant  to  frown. 

"  What  this  buttercup  says  is  always  true: 

Yes,  more  than  all,  my  darling,  I  love  you." 


THY  CHILD. 


Thou  hadst  not  where  to  lay  Thy  head,  dear  Lord, 

But  I  can  pillow  mine  upon  Thy  breast. 
Though  winds  may  blow,  and  storms  beat  fiercely  down 

Enfolded  thus,  I  can  securely  rest. 
A  princely  mansion,  nor  a  lofty  throne, 

Could  not  entice  me  from  this  blest  retreat; 
I  'd  rather  be  Thy  servant,  gentle  Lord, 

And  wipe  the  dust  from  Thy  beloved  feet. 

My  lowly  room  expands  to  palace  halls, 

My  simple  garb  to  robes  of  spotless  white, 
When  I  recall  that  I  am  Thy  dear  child, 

A  being  ever  precious  in  Thy  sight. 
It  is  so  sweet  to  feel  that  Thou  art  here, 

And  that  Thy  hand  is  laid  upon  my  head  ! 
Abide  with  me,  the  night-time  draweth  near; 

I  would  with  manna  from  Thy  lips  be  fed. 

O  Lord  Almighty,  powerful  and  strong, 

Great  in  Thy  gentleness,  as  well  as  might, 
Keep  me,  in  spirit,  just  a  trusting  child; 

Hold  fast  my  clinging  hands  through  dark  and  light! 
Master,  I  fear  to  tread  the  path  alone, 

But  by  Thy  side  my  heart  grows  brave  with  love. 
Closer  I  creep  into  Thy  tender  arms: 

Bear  me  within  the  gates  of  peace  above. 


SORROW. 


The  sorrow  that  nobody  mentions, 
The  sorrow  no  one  may  share, 

Is  the  sorrow  the  dear  Lord  giveth 
His  sweetest,  tenderest  care. 

He  places  His  hand  on  the  well-spring, 

The  quivering  lips  refrain, 
And  the  eyes  smile  forth  in  defiance, 

His  love  enfolding  the  pain. 

He  knows  where  the  hurt  is  the  deepest, 
The  tears  of  night  and  of  day, 

And  whispering  softly,  "  I  love  you," 
Brushes  the  dewdrops  away. 

The  sorrow  that  nobody  mentions, 
The  sorrow  no  one  may  share, 

Is  the  sorrow  the  dear  Lord  giveth 
His  sweetest,  tenderest  care. 


SING  IN  THE  RAIN. 

Let  us  sing  in  the  rain, 

Though  the  gladsome  refrain 
Cause  the  teardrops  to  part, 
On  its  way  from  the  heart. 
Singing  so  cheerily ! 
Singing  so  merrily ! 
Sing  in  the  rain  ! 

Let  us  sing  in  the  rain  ! 
At  the  end  of  the  lane 

A  bright  rainbow  appears: 
The  song  shining  on  tears. 
Singing  so  cheerily ! 
Singing  so  merrily ! 
Sing  in  the  rain  ! 

Let  us  sing  in  the  rain  ! 

The  strong  anthem  of  pain 
Loosens  gems  from  on  high, 
As  it  cleaveth  the  sky. 
Singing  so  cheerily  ! 
Singing  so  merrily ! 
Sing  in  the  rain  ! 


A  VISION. 


O  lustrous  eyes  !     O  face  of  olive  hue  ! 

Thou  tender  flower  of  wondrous  beauty  ! 
Thy  parted  lips,  disclosing  snowy  pearls, 

Steel  my  brain  to  thought,  my  hands  to  duty. 
Could  poet  write  while  reading  in  thy  face 

Engraven  lines  from  God's  own  poem-book  ? 
Or  artist  paint,  while  in  thy  dreamy  eyes 

He  sees  the  secret  color  of  a  look  ? 

Sly  dimples  rippling  o'er  thy  smiling  cheeks, 

Soft,  dusky  hair  waved  back  in  raven  folds, 
A  rounded  chin,  curved  with  bewitching  mirth, 

Two  tiny  ears  like  waxen  sea-shell  moulds. 
Thou  lovely  being,  so  divinely  fair, 

Glimpse  of  the  perfect  where  the  ransomed  dwell, 
Entranced  I  gaze  upon  thy  sylvan  grace, 

Bound  with  the  fetters  of  a  nameless  spell. 

O  Thou  who  didst  create  the  human  frame, 

And  call  to  life  and  breath  such  mortal  clay, 
If  this  is  but  a  vision,  how  sublime 

Must  be  the  creature  of  an  endless  day  ! 
Thy  mighty  power  far  surpasses  thought, 

Man  cannot  grasp  it  with  his  feeble  mind ; 
We  catch  but  glimpses  as  we  journey  on, 

The  light  and  shadow  closely  intertwined. 

Thou  hast  implanted,  deep  within  the  heart, 

Intense  desires  for  something  high  and  grand  ; 
A  proof  that  what  we  see  is  but  the  bud 

Which  in  a  milder  clime  will  wide  expand. 
Thou  sendest  discipline,  a  cunning  tool, 

To  deftly  carve  away  our  carnal  dross : 
From  out  this  frame  o'f  weakness  shall  arise 

Perfection,  like  the  glory  from  the  cross. 


GOD  KEEP  THEE. 


Out  into  the  world  with  its  busy  cares, 
I  send  you  forth  with  a  morning  kiss ; 

Though  dangers  fly  like  the  birds  of  the  air, 
I  rest  content  in  such  peace  as  this : 
"  No  evil  shall  befall  thee." 

For  I  know  that  He  sendeth  only  good, 
And  that  His  great  love  surpasseth  mine  ; 

So  I  seal  your  forehead  and  cheeks  and  lips, 
And  round  your  neck  clasp  a  chain  divine  : 
"  Lo,  I  am  with  you  alway." 

You  turn  through  the  trees  and  are  lost  to  sight ; 

I  toss  you  a  kiss  and  say,  "  Godspeed  ;  " 
Oh,  these  clinging  arms  would  detain  you,  dear ! 

But  labor  is  part  of  human  need  : 

"  Sow  thy  seed  in  the  morning." 

God  bless  you,  my  darling,  from  morn  till  night ; 

God  lead  you  aright  through  all  the  day ; 
And  at  last  may  the  evening  time  of  life 

Be  aglow  with  heaven's  resplendent  ray  : 
"  His  beloved  He  giveth  sleep." 


THE  WEEK  ENDETH. 

AND  THEY  WENT  AND  TOI,D  JESUS." 


Rabboni,  Master,  at  Thy  feet  I  kneel; 

Great  need  of  Thee  my  struggling  soul  doth  feel. 

Weary  I  draw  unto  Thy  riven  side, 

Within  Thine  arms  I  would  securely  hide. 

Take  me,  O  Lord,  while  unto  Thee  I  tell 

The  path  I  sought,  and  all  that  there  befell. 

Master,  I  sat  beneath  a  shady  tree 

And  spoke  a  word,  as  I  had  chance,  for  Thee. 

I  was  too  weak  to  stand  the  glare  of  sun, 

And  at  the  best,  but  little  have  I  done; 

But  I  have  loved  Thee  much,  my  blessed  Lord, 

Oh  wilt  Thou  not  my  love  for  Thee  record? 

I  held  a  cup  of  water  to  a  child, 

And  was  refreshed  when  she  looked  up  and  smiled; 

I  sang  a  song  to  cheer  a  lonely  heart, 

Helped  to  bear  crosses,  though  my  tears  would  start 

At  sight  of  human  grief  which,  I  well  knew, 

Had  also  pierced  my  being  through  and  through. 

O  Lord,  count  not  by  great  or  mighty  deeds, 

For  all  my  service  must  consist  of  seeds! 


AN  EVENING  PRAYER. 


O  God,  my  Father,  full  of  tender  love  ! 

0  Lord  of  earth,  Monarch,  up  above  ! 
In  holy  reverence  I  bend  the  knee  ; 
Incline  Thine  ear — be  gracious  unto  me. 

1  lay  the  day  low  at  Thy  blessed  feet ; 

For  Thine  acceptance,  Lord,  oh  make  it  meet ! 

This,  well  I  know,  can  only  come  by  grace ; 

In  Thine  own  name  I  kneel  before  Thy  face. 

All  that  I  have,  or  am,  or  hope  to  be  ; 

All  that  I  wish  for,  Lord,  I  bring  to  Thee. 

In  fullest  trust  I  step  into  the  night ; 

Where'er  it  please  Thee,  Lord,  oh  give  me  light 


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